True Demons
by William Logan
Summary: A band of adventurers is hired by Stormwind to investigate rumors of an Undead incursion on Southshore, only to find themselves at the center of a much more sinister plot. Please read and review
1. Prologue: The Tower of Arugal

**Disclaimer: WarCraft and all related names and such do not belong to me... I do hope you enjoy this story, based on a pen-and-paper adventure I worked out set in the WarCraft universe. Please, do drop your reviews off as you read and let me know what you think.**

**True Demons**

**By William Logan**

**Prologue: The Tower of Arugal**

Aalinyah Sunhunter reached her slender hand out and grasped the bleeding shoulder of her companion, a stout Dwarf who clutched onto his large warhammer fiercely, his eyes blazing as he watched the skirmish unfold before them, seemingly unaware of his wound.

"Light heal you," she whispered, and the wound rapidly sealed up, leaving only a few specks of blood behind as a reminder of its existance, she brushed a few strands of silver hair away from her eyes as she turned her attention back to the two mages locked in combat before them. One, the dark lord of the keep they presently occupied the highest tower of, Arugal the Vile, whose black robes billowed about him as he gesticulated fiercely at her companion, a young man by the name of Xelvar, decked in blood red robes and sporting a shaved head and a small tuft of black hair on his chin.

"You enter my keep," Arugal snarled, a bolt of black lightning flashing forth from his hand, narrowly missing Xelvar, causing a bubbling flask of viscous liquid to explode, its contents slowly dripping off the shelf onto the floor, "slaughter my sons and now seek to kill me..."

"You speak as if you treated us like honored guests when we entered here, sorcerer," the younger mage sneered back, "the Kirin Tor have been calling for your death for years... I don't even think they knew what you were up to in here... these horrific experiments... these wolf-men you created." A bolt of fire leapt from his hand, catching Arugal squarely in the chest, leaving his robes smouldering and causing the elder mage to stumble backwards. At this moment of faltering, the Dwarf, one Thannt Thunderstrike of the Wildhammers leapt forward with a mighty war shout and swung low at the Master of Shadowfang Keep, causing him to land flat on his back.

"You dare judge me, boy! You know not what other horrors have been birthed by the Kirin Tor... sons of whores like Kel'Thuzad... I only sought to make my own creations, not destroy those of others..."

"Your creations are abominations, Arugal..." Xelvar hissed, slowly approaching the prone wizard, who now scrambled backwards a bit, running into a bookcase, a look of horror crossing his face as he realized he was trapped, "and now your judgement comes." Without another word, Xelvar made a lightning-fast gesture, an explosion of arcane energy shooting forth from his fingertips and instantly forming a gaping hole in the chest of the defenseless wizard, his head now hanging limp and lifeless, his face, forever locked in an expression of shock and horror, mostly obscured by his graying hair.

"Our orders were to kill him only as a last resort!" The elven priestess snapped, "not to blast him to pieces the first opportunity we got!"

"The situation called for... somewhat less tact and somewhat more firepower," Xelvar said, a smirk appearing across his lips as he wiped some sweat from his brow, "he was in the way of our goal..."

The Aalinyah retorted, "He was our goal! The Kirin Tor wanted to interro---"

"The Kirin Tor," Xelvar interrupted, voice even and cool, "are a bunch of doddering old fools who do nothing but sit back and judge the actions of others. They are hardly any better than the Silver Hand, simply criticizing those who have the gall to do what others refuse..."

"I'm gonna hafta agree with the lad," Thannt interjected, "I donnae think Arugal woulda given us halfa chance t'beg fer mercy had th' tables been turned." He dabbed at a wound on his head that cut through one of his many deep blue tribal tattoos.

"Well... gather up whatever you all may need... I am done in this abyssmal place. I simply want to return home to my family," Aalinyah grimaced, a chill going down her spine as she looked around at the candlelit room filled with books and various potions, most of which did not look to be particularly healthful. Xelvar simply laughed, a sharp, harsh sound.

"Come now, surely you want to celebrate our victory," he swept his hand across a table, knocking over a number of astronomical instruments, priceless by the looks of their age alone, which shattered on the ground. He then reached into his pack and procured three goblets and a large bottle of wine, "I picked this up on our way through Southshore..." he made a gesture at the top of the bottle and the cork flew off, "Come now... drink..." he began pouring a glass for each of them. Aalinyah looked down at the corpse of their enemy, shuddering at the idea of drinking over the dead. She was a priestess of the Light, and such things as killing were not to be celebrated, but as she looked at her companions, who were likely far less interested in good and evil and sinners and saints and far more interested in bashing skulls or setting them on fire or somesuch, she reluctantly agreed, lifting a goblet to her lips and taking a long sip. Perhaps the wine could help her forget some of what she'd seen that day. The dwarf, naturally, had already swallowed the contents of his cup whole. Xelvar held his goblet up to his mouth and lowered it, smiling slowly at his companions.

"What is so funny, mage?"

"Nothing... nothing at all... rest well, the both of you... for peaceful rest will not be yours for long." The words had barely left his mouth before Aalinyah had dropped to the floor, her life almost instantly leaving her. The Dwarf, naturally being more resilient to poisons, had already started to reach for his warhammer again.

"What treachery is this, laddie?"

"Just something I put together... don't worry.. you'll get to fight another day, Master Dwarf... in fact... you will more than likely fight for an eternity as my servant," Xelvar grinned even wider, "you won't feel much pain just now... I assure you, dear Aalinyah probably didn't even realize she finished her sentence before she died..." the Dwarf's arms slumped, his warhammer clanking to the ground in his loose grip, Xelvar ticking off seconds on his fingers, finally stopping as Thannt dropped to the ground with a heavy thud, "Almost a full second before it got through your system... impressive..." he smiled, pulling a large spellbook, covered with dark runes and demonic figures, out from his bag, "Now... to get to work on raising you..."


	2. Chapter 1: Out of the Frying Pan

**Chapter One: Out of the Frying Pan...**

"Evix Featherstrum?" The voice came through the wooden door of the prison cell where the Kaldorei reclined on an uncomfortable cot, staring at the ceiling. She idly brushed her fingernails on her leather tunic in the candlelight, not making any move to answer. She'd been locked in the Stormwind stockade for two weeks now, and really didn't see any reason to start accomidating the suddenly talkative guards. "You've a visitor..."

"Joy... if it's one of those cursed priests trying to save my soul again, forget it... my soul hasn't done anything for me in a long time..." Evix gathered herself up on her bed, pressing flat against the wall, ready to strike at whoever came into the room. Not so much in hopes to escape, but more for her own entertainment. It'd been nearly a week since she'd been allowed to see any of the other prisoners, since the last piece of Defias scum who had decided to try anything with her had ended up with a number of the prison's dinner forks shoved into his abdomen. She could certainly use a good scrap.

"I assure you, I'm not a priest, by any means," another male voice, deeper than the first, replied, "and I don't come to save your soul... but your neck." The door cracked open and a tall shadow appeared on the floor.

"I don't need any saving," Evix whispered from the shadows, lunging out to swing on the man before her, only to find her arm suddenly twisted in a remarkably uncomfortable position behind her back, her head shoved down towards her chest so that she couldn't move it.

"Really? I'd beg to differ, my night elf friend... guard, leave us..." the door shut quickly and the lock could be heard sliding into place, "you've got the death of at least four people on your head, girl... I don't think you're in a place to be saying who needs saving."

"They were scum that society needed to be rid of..." she growled, struggling fruitlessly with her arms before swinging her leg up in a kick, catching her captor by surprise as her foot connected with his face, causing him to loosen his grip, giving her enough room to slide from his grasp. "Much as I suspect you to be..."

The man let out a sharp, loud laugh, "Very impressive... I'd wondered how you'd managed to kill Geltan, but now that I see you in action, it's not hard to see... you are very talented."

"You don't have to tell me that," she grinned, puffing her chest up proudly, "not to mention that I could have killed Geltan with a broken arm... oh... wait... I did. So, how did you know him... you Defias scum, too? Deep-seated in the government, waiting for the right moment to strike? I should crush your windpipe right now..."

"You seem to be quite righteous, Evix... seem to feel the need to do justice."

It was the elf's turn to laugh, her white eyes glowing in the candlelight, "Justice? Hardly... I just know that things wouldn't be too good for people like me if the government were overthrown."

"I would think that an assassin would find a lack of government control a benefit..." The man retorted, a fascinated look crossing his features as he stroked at his well-trimmed beard. Evix could now see his dark features in the light, he was a small man, fairly well-groomed, in fact, she wouldn't have given him two glances passing him on the street.

"Not at all... there'd be far too much competition, after all, if there's no guards to try to get around... no city patrols... anyone would be able to sneak into someone's house and kill 'em. My work takes skill," she smiled sinisterly.

"You make a valid point... but how would you feel about getting out of here and still being permitted to continue doing your work, for higher pay, and with a purpose," the man's tone turned serious now.

"More pay sounds good. Purpose... well... as of right now, that's killing people that other people want dead... and I find it unlikely you're going to offer me anything more than that."

"Make no mistake, Evix.. I could just as easily go down the hall and grab some random Defias renegade and give him this offer, but you've shown a remarkable amount of skill, even down to killing one of my agents... I am Matthias Shaw, leader of the SI:7 agency. I'm offering you a chance to actually make a real difference in the world with your targets," he opened his hands, emphasizing the influence she could have.

"You had me at more pay and a chance to see the moonlight again, Shaw... now just get me out of here, give me some weapons, and someone to scrap with and I'll be happy," Evix laughed softly.

"I have a very specific purpose in mind for you, Evix... and it will become evident in time. I advise you not to get too cocky... you have skill, but absolutely no discipline. I'm taking it on my self to turn you into a silent, smooth-running killing machine, who doesn't brag about it the next day in the tavern... think you can do that?" Shaw scowled at the grin Evix still had on her lips.

"Talking in a tavern landed me in here to begin with... so I suppose I can keep it shut," the grin faded from her lips. Shaw extended his hand, which Evix reluctantly grabbed and shook firmly.

"This is the beginning of a beautiful relationship, I think," Shaw said, smiling once again, with a look that made Evix shiver to the bone.


	3. Chapter 2: Scouts

**Chapter Two: Scouts**

Kelan Usher sighed, leaning against the side of the gate he was meant to be guarding, glancing back at the small town of Southshore through the pallisade, he shook his head. If the Scourge were to ever actually strike this far south, two guards and a fence made of logs were hardly going to stop them.

"Don't be so negative," a voice snapped Kelan out of his train of thought, and it was only when he looked back at his fellow guard, dressed similar to him in leather scales and a loose blue tunic, that he realized he'd been thinking aloud. "If the Scourge were to make it this far south, we'd have time to notify Stormwind and get reinforcements."

"By your logic, Lordaeron had plenty of time to defend itself when Arthas turned," Kelan just shook his head, "face it, Hector... we're doomed."

"Besides, we've got more to worry about from the Syndicate than the Scourge. The Forsaken keep the Scourge pretty well at bay, although having them as a line of defense is like saying you're glad to have a maddened orc between you and a demon... one way or the other, one of them is going to cut you down." He sighed, "And then, of course, there's those wolf creatures in Shadowfang... we sent that group of three off to take care of that problem, what, two months ago and they still haven't made it back?"

Kelan snorted as a means of response as he took a glance up at the sliver of a moon that hovered over their head, trying not to think about such things. This, of course, was brought to and end quickly, as were most of the more pleasant moments in his life, when Hector nudged his shoulder, pointing towards a nearby bush.

"I thought I saw something move over there," he whispered.

"It's probably just a rabbit... or a couple of lovers who sneaked out past curfew for a bit of excitement. I'd not worry about it," was Kelan's reply, but his fellow guard was already creeping up on the bush, drawing his broadsword.

"Come on out of there now," he ordered, "come out or I start swinging!" His voice cracked a bit, the conversation of the night having already started wearing on his nerves. Moments later, a rabbit emerged from the bush, looking up at him curiously, its nose wiggling, before hopping off.

"Well, you sure showed him," Kelan smirked, "that rabbit looked like a killer... menace to the whole town."

"You're the one who made me paranoid with all this talk of the Scourge and such," he began to step back towards his post, Kelan turning away a moment to hide a few more snickers, "again, like I said, we've nothing to worry about from the undea---" Hector's speech was cut off by a horrific wet crunch. Kelan whirled about to see his companion drop to the ground, blood gushing from the great hole where his throat had once been, a twisted mockery of a human being standing over him, violet orbs glowing in sockets where eyes normally would be. The creature studied the blood and gore dripping from its clawed fingers with some interest before turning its eyes to Kelan, a long tongue protruding from its mouth, licking its lips hungrily.

"Un... un... Undead!" Kelan shrieked, grasping blindly for the alarm bell, getting three good pulls on it, the sharp clanging sound echoing through Southshore's streets. The creature lunged at him, moving more quickly than any undead Kelan had ever heard of him, and the last thing the guard heard that night was the shouts of the villagers behind him, followed by the squelch of the ghoul ripping through his flesh with its claws, tearing his innards to shreds with one mighty swipe.

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Shendaris Dawnlighter crouched low on the tree branch she was perched in, watching the road below her. The Scarlets should have been here by now, she thought to herself, a grimace crossing her lips. She looked about, sniffing the air, which reeked of decay, as it did everywhere in the Tirisfal Glades, home of a good portion of the Undead, Forsaken and Scourge alike. The elven ranger kept the arrow ready in her bow, just in case she spotted anyone else unwelcome in her forest. She smiled to herself, _her forest_, sometimes she really thought of it that way. She was the only remaining ranger who guarded it, much less guarded it with the fervor and love she had for it. She had made her home here before the Scourge invasion, helping safeguard the human populace. Apparently she had failed them, she thought, chastising herself, though she knew just as well as anyone that there was nothing anyone could have done. She pulled her cloak up tighter around her face, more to obscure her figure in the tree than to protect her from the elements. It was then that she heard a few snaps of twigs nearby. Her head turned quickly to spot a pair of zombies wandering near the road, heading towards Silverpine Forest.

"Odd..." she intoned, sniffing the air again, "don't smell like Scourge..." she dropped from her tree with feline grace, landing in a crouch. She looked at the indentations the undead had left in the grass, plucking up a piece of the gray foliage and sniffing it, "definitely not the same magic." She began to follow the tracks before her, deciding that the Scarlets could wait to face judgement til another day. After about an hour of tracking, she found herself in Silverpine, near the road leading to Shadowfang Keep, which she could see in the distance, flashes of deep violet arcane energy emitting from one of the windows. The ranger grimaced, deciding to carry on and investigate. It was, after all, her forest.

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Many hours later, Shendaris found herself running at top speed back towards Tirisfal Glades, quite sure that she was being followed. So, a necromancer had taken over Arugal's old keep, she grimaced, unsure whether that was better or worse than the mad mage who'd created the bizarre lycanthropes who had prowled Silverpine so heavily up until recently. The only thing she knew was that she had to let someone know, before innocent lives were in danger.


End file.
